All is not delightful this morning. Don’t get me wrong, it’s entirely my fault. Although I think if Lizzie would EAT HER STUPID MEATBALLS I’d feel better about a lot of things. Social distancing, self-isolating, whatever it is that I’m doing is not fun. And it’s getting harder and harder to remain cheerful and upbeat all the time. We’re coming up on two weeks (or is it three? Maybe just one? I’ll lost all sense of time), and I’m growing increasingly frustrated with the whole routine of bopping around the house, Marc, me and the three kids. And as soon as I form that thought, I start to beat myself up because we’re all healthy – and I feel this overwhelming sense of anxiety all the time. Will we get sick? Please God, let this just be something that we watch – the economic collapse, strangers getting sick and dying, but not have it actually happen to us.
Lizzie is recovering from lyme disease, and the treatement is 4 pills, 2x a day for thirty days. She hates them, and is now refusing to eat them. I’m not amused.
I read today that in NY, the doctors are recommending, literally, that you not leave your house. No walks. And we’re about a week, maybe, behind them.
I have to go grocery shopping today. I have a complicated relationship with spending money, and generally have developed a work around where I shop often but for very little at any one time. In addition to panicking about going out shopping today, I also have a low level fear of spending a lot of money in the trip.